


Protector

by MorganD



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Jace and Alec as kids, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganD/pseuds/MorganD
Summary: In a stormy night, Alec is awakened by an intruder.





	Protector

Alec Lightood is not a light sleeper.

He’s not a particularly _heavy_ sleeper either, but he’s being trained to fight demonic creatures as a Shadowhunter, and more importantly, as the oldest Lightwood child, he’s expected to command the New York Institute someday.

According to those parameters, Alec sleeps like a truly heavy log, probably from an ancient giant sequoia.

It’s what his mother’s disappointed look seems to imply whenever she has to rest her hand on his shoulder and softly call his name to rouse him. _What if I had been the enemy instead? You should have been able to perceive my approach much sooner, preferably before I even entered the room._ She doesn’t have to say those things aloud anymore. He knows.

Alec wonders if the fact that she no longer bothers to scold him for it means she already sees him as a hopeless cause. He fervently hopes that’s not the case. There is still time for him to improve, isn’t there?

Not much time. He’s already thirteen years old. But maybe… just enough time?

Anyway, he’s awake now, while just a second ago he wasn’t. And Alec is at least competent enough to tell that it’s much, much too early for that, and that he didn’t just wake up naturally.

He remains completely still and with his eyes closed, drowsily trying to figure out what dragged him out of his convoluted dream about otters and guava-flavored mushrooms. The wind is wailing outside, shaking leaves and rattling the window. The clap of thunder brings a little smirk to Alec’s lips. This probably makes him a weirdo, but he actually loves a big, loud, flashy storm.

(When he’s inside, anyway. He doesn’t particularly care for getting wet. Alec’s private vision of hell, no matter what else it may harbor, always includes soggy socks.)

He finds storms oddly soothing. He enjoys counting the seconds between lightning and thunder, and when the opportunity allows, he sneaks into the Institute’s top floor and presses his nose against a window, watching in fascination as lightning bolts crisscross the sky over the city.

Alec opens his eyes at last, and as luck would have it, his room is flooded by the silver flash of lightning the very next second.

He barely manages to suppress a startled yelp.

Not because of the lightning, but because of the figure he finds standing rigidly right beside his bed, staring down at him with big, round eyes.

Under the ghostly light, it takes Alec a moment to recognize the sinister intruder.

If this had happened merely six months earlier, Alec might have rolled out of bed and scrambled to his feet, preparing to put all the training he had received so far into facing this hostile creature’s vicious fighting skills.

Not that Jace Wayland has ever attacked him in his sleep. Or anyone else, as far as Alec knows. However, since being brought to live in the Institute, the kid has put a lot of effort into making people believe that he very well might _and could_.

Little Izzy still sees the new addition to the family with cautious suspicion, as if Jace were secretly a shape-shifting, poison-spitting demon that will eventually reveal its true nature and devour them all. In her defense, Jace has often bitten her head off—not literally, but still rather harshly, after little provocation.

Nowadays, Alec sees Jace more as a disgruntled kitten, ready to claw whoever dares come near to pet him.

It’s quite endearing, actually.

Not that Alec would ever _say_ that.

So all he does now is raise his head and rub the sleep off his eyes. “Jace?”

“It’s just a storm,” replies Jace in a low, taut voice. “Nothing to worry about.”

Alec blinks, opens his mouth to protest that he isn’t worried at all—in fact, he was sound asleep up until a moment ago, when Jace apparently woke him up with his brooding presence—when a roaring crash of thunder rips the air, and the very structure of the cathedral that shelters the Institute seems to quiver and groan in apprehension.

Jace dives into Alec’s bed at once, lying right next to the older boy, and hurriedly pulls the blankets over their heads.

“Jace…?”

“It’s okay, Alec. Don’t be scared,” says Jace, his words slightly muffled by the pillow he’s now sharing with Alec. “I’ll protect you.”

Alec stares in shock in Jace’s general direction, unable to see a thing under the blanket in the dark room. It is true that things got progressively better between them in the last six months, mostly because Alec refused to let Jace push him away. He did his best not to take the bait whenever Jace became particularly testy, helping him direct his anger and frustration towards an actual, non-metaphorical punching bag instead. Eventually, their conversations even started to include themes that weren’t related to combat and weapons.

And yet, after six months, Alec can still count the number of times Jace has been in his room. The fingers of one hand are enough to count the times Jace came on his own initiative.

So this is more than a little unexpected.

Unexpected, but not at all unwelcome.

Another thunder, this one quieter than the previous one. Jace shudders nonetheless, vainly trying to hide his reaction by scooting even closer. Alec can feel Jace’s silky hair against his brow.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here,” Jace murmurs, his little fingers clutching at the front of Alec’s pajamas top. “I promise.”

Alec is suddenly assaulted by a mighty barrage of tenderness and affection that floods him with sweet, glowing warmth, lighting up every bleak corner deep inside.

It actually kind of _hurts_ a little bit.

That probably explains why he feels his eyes stinging.

Alec raises his hand hesitantly, half-expecting Jace to flinch or pull away. When none of that happens, he passes his arm around the younger boy’s waist in a gentle embrace.

Jace emits a thin, unintelligible sound, which is followed by long seconds of silence, and finally… a quiet, mellow sigh.

Alec smiles into the darkness. “Thanks, Jace,” he whispers. And then he adds, with utter sincerity, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr as morgandeeyue.


End file.
